7th year at Hogwarts
by The Mouth of the South
Summary: This is a first attempt at FanFic for me so here it goes: A story of Harry & the trio's 7th year, riddled with fights, love, obstacles, & new lessons with all the favorites. Please, I beg you, REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1 The Invitation

7th year at Hogwarts  
  
_Dear Ron,  
  
Thanks for the invitation to stay at your house. Professor Dumbledore wants me to stay here for another week or so, until I turn 17. Then I have to take my Apparation test in London, and get a few things squared away at Gringotts. Something to do with my assets and the things my parents left me. So I'll be able to come in about two weeks.  
How are things at the Burrow? Tell Fred congratulations for me, I read about him and Angelina in the Daily Prophet yesterday! That's just brilliant! So, how are your Mum and Ginny lately?_  
  
Harry paused, sucking on the end of his quill. 'How will Ron read that?' he thought as he re-read the question with Ginny's name in it, his stomach flipped and his heart beat more rapidly. He nodded, satisfied that it seemed innocent and inconspicuous enough, and continued writing.  
  
_ I have to go now, so I'll wrap it up, and I'll post you again from Diagon Alley, when I can come and stay at the Burrow. Say hi to Ginny and your Mum for me!  
Your Friend,  
Harry _

_P.S. please watch Hedwig for a week for me._

He tied the scroll to Hedwig's leg, and patted her on the head. "Take care, and come find me in Diagon Alley in about a week." He watched dejectedly as his last tie to the wizarding world flew out the open window to the starry night sky. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his trim, firm chest. Rummaging through his wardrobe, he found one of Dudley's old t- shirts and pulled it on.  
He walked unhurriedly over to the worn bed, and pulled the thread bare sheets up over his chest and curled up. Forgetting the lights, he crawled out of bed and crossed the room to the switch. He flicked the switch, and the room was dark. Feeling his way back to bed, he rolled onto his side and pulled his feet underneath him, so they didn't stick off the end of the bed that Dudley had outgrown and worn out years ago, the too- short bed that he was rapidly getting too tall for.  
  
Mornings at the burrow were slow and easy... it was only Ginny and Ron left at home with their mum and dad, and breakfast had become an everybody gets their own deal. Ginny was just pouring herself an orange juice when Hedwig came soaring through the door. -Ron! Hedwig's here with Harry's reply!- Ginny yelled to her brother up the stairwell as she pet the birds head and untied the scroll from her leg. -Read it! I don't feel like getting up!- He bellowed back from his room.  
Ginny picked the scroll up off of the table where she had set it and unrolled it. She quickly scanned the first sentence for bad news, or an announcement of emergency of some kind. Seeing nothing, she put the letter back down, not wanting to read Ron's mail.  
She went back to her orange juice, unaware that somewhere in Surrey, she had crossed the mind of a 16 year old boy with shiny round lens glasses and messy ink-black hair, and a scar shaped like a lightening bolt on his forehead.  
Ginny Weasley was on Harry Potter's mind... a lot lately. Ron slowly made his way downstairs to the Burrow's cozy kitchen. Ginny was standing at the sink cleaning up after her breakfast, and their mum had just entered and was sitting at the table writing out a shopping list. "It's about time Ronald," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as she looked up at her son, and then to the clock which read ten 'til eleven, "Ginny says you have a letter from Harry, it's on the counter."  
"Oi, Ginny, what's it say?" Ron asked.  
"I dunno Ron, I only read the first line to see if anything was wrong. All it said was something about your invitation. Read it for yourself." Ginny replied.  
Ron picked up the scroll and unrolled it. He plopped down unceremoniously in a chair at the table and sighed. "He can't come for a few weeks..." he mumbled aloud, "something with Dumbledore, Apparation license.... He says congratulations to Forge..." Ron's lips kept moving as his eyes scanned the page. Ginny stood at the sink trying not to make any noise so that she could pick up what Ron read aloud. Ron sighed again as he put the letter down. "He asked about you mum."  
"Oh how considerate of him," Mrs. Weasley commented.  
"You too Ginny, he said to say 'Hi' to you both, and to watch Hedwig for him for a while." Ron said miserably.  
"Do cheer up, love. It's only two weeks, at least he can come at all!" Mrs. Weasley reassured her son.  
"I'm just so bored here without my friends." Ron bemoaned.  
"Look, pea-brain, it's not as if I'm from another planet, I'm only a year younger you know. You can hang out with me, don't worry know one from the outside world has to know you hung with your sister over- break." Ginny huffed.  
"Sure, we'll play quidditch later, Gin." Ron said in a laid back tone.  
He got up from the table and made himself some toast. Finishing up with the last crusts, he walked over to Hedwig, who was perched on the window sill and offered his arm. She hopped on, and he started to climb the stairs back to his room.  
  
Meanwhile, in another part of England, Harry Potter was hunched over a flower bed, with dirt on his knees and clothes, sweat dripping down his face, neck and back, and compost under his nails. Outside Number 4 Privet Drive, the lawn was flawlessly mowed, with neat little tracks left from the wheels of the mower cutting diagonally across the carpet of green, and a sharp and definite edge around the borders of the property, and lining the driveway and footpath.  
Beneath the open bay windows of the Dursley's living room, Harry was spreading mulch and soil around newly planted begonias, which were of course, arranged in neat little rows. He raised his forearm and wiped the sweat of his forehead. Scrunching up his nose, he tilted his head back and sneezed. He adjusted his glasses and went back to work. The sun was climbing high into the sky, and he could feel the back of his neck burning. 'Great, a weird sunburn line...' he thought. Standing up to his full height of 6'2", he brushed the dirt off of his clothes and reached over his shoulder with one hand to pull of the extra large tee shirt that was stuck to his sweaty chest and back. He flung the shirt onto the sidewalk. Any girl walking by would be very impressed with the gorgeous body of the young man in the flower bed. Harry, on the other hand, didn't notice anything special about his looks, and I suppose that made him all the more appealing.  
Just as he reached a brown, dirt covered hand over to pick up the carton of flowers to plant one, an ear piercing scream rent the air, coming from inside the house at Number 4 Privet Drive. A neighbor down the street who was out washing his car looked up the street to see what the commotion was, but Harry didn't notice. Harry already had his wand pulled out from his waistband, and was crouched beneath the window, flat to the house.  
His Aunt Petunia was inside, staring at the fire place of her house, which had been covered and out of order not even thirty seconds ago. Now there was a roaring fire in place of the cover, and an elderly man's head sitting in the flames. He had a bemused expression on his face, and he waited patiently for the poor woman to recover. "Good afternoon, Petunia. I'm sorry for startling you. If you don't remember, my name is.."  
"DUMBLEDORE!" the thin blond woman shrieked, "How dare you!" she hissed as she clutched her chest.  
Harry stood up rapidly as he heard the name from the window, and hit his head against the open window as he did, causing a loud crash. Another petrified shriek, not quite as loud as the first came from Aunt Petunia, and she sighed with aggravated relief as she saw the messy hair of her nephew below the sill. Dumbledore laughed from the hearth, and Harry, who was rubbing his head, rushed from the window, and entered the house at the front door a moment later.  
He rushed to the fireplace, and knelt on the carpet. "Professor! What's wrong? Why are you here?" Harry breathed.  
Petunia Dursley glared at the boy, and muttered a quite remark about tracking mud through the spotless house, and slowly got up from her seat on the couch. She fled to the kitchen, where Harry and Dumbledore could hear her bustling around, if they cared to listen.  
"Harry, my boy, nothing is wrong, calm yourself. I just wanted to let you know I'll be by Arabella Figg's house tomorrow at five to pick you up. Please have all of your things ready, we will most definitely be in a hurry."  
"Why did you need to Floo to tell me that, and why are we leaving earlier than planned, Professor?" Harry asked his mentor.  
"Harry, there have been several crucial owl messages that have disappeared en route earlier this week, and that eliminates the choice of owl communication with you, and also creates a need to expedite your removal, in case our original plans were compromised. I have to go now, there is a meeting in a few minutes, and I need to speak to Remus beforehand. Good afternoon," said the old wizard with a nod. In the blink of an eye, Professor Dumbledore was gone, and the old fireplace was exactly as it normally is.  
Petunia stood in the doorway from the kitchen, her hand resting on a vacuum cleaner. She cleared her throat to get Harry's attention, and looked silently from the dirt tracks on her carpet to the vacuum, and then to Harry. Without saying anything, she turned on her heel and Harry could hear her climbing the stairs, before he turned on the noise vacuum cleaner and started cleaning.


	2. Chapter 2 Moving

For Harry, five o'clock could not roll around quick enough the next day. Breakfast was not out of the ordinary, neither was lunch, for both which meals Harry was ordered by his Aunt to prepare and serve. Harry was surely not going to miss feeding his fat lump of a cousin and his aunt and uncle every morning, noon and night. Harry found himself counting down hours, minutes, and seconds until he would finally and forever be free of the custody of his aunt. Yes, in 7½ hours, Harry would be on the way to 12 Grimmauld Place where his new home would be waiting.  
'In almost 7 hours, I'll never have to look at Dudley's face again!' Harry thought gleefully to himself as he made a mental list of things to look forward to never having to do again. It would be thought one person wouldn't have a very long list, but not Harry Potter. He made a list so long, that he would've wagered a good portion of Galleons that it would take up more parchment than one of Hermione's Arithmancy essays, if he had a mind to put it to paper.  
  
Somewhere near the quiet muggle village of Ottery St. Catchpole, in another part of England, the Weasley's were packing up to go to Grimmauld place for the remainder of the summer.  
"MUM!" Ron yelled down the rickety stairwell, "WHERE'S MY OWL?" Ginny, who was in between his big mouth and downstairs winced as he bellowed, and thought to herself, 'How would she know, you git, he's your little problem, not ours!'  
"How should I know, Ron! He's your owl, not mine, that's your problem, love, not mine!" Molly shouted back.  
Ginny's eyes widened and she whispered, "That's scary, that is! Oh I'll end up just like her," she added with a slight whine. She went back to sorting her socks and her new robes. At Diagon Alley yesterday, her mum had treated her to several new robes, and even a brand new set of dress robes.  
Sometimes if Ginny drifted far enough off into a reverie, she favored the idea that it was nice having enough to buy brand new things, even if it meant a quieter household, and less time per year seeing her brothers. But then she'd always snap back, and it would be then that she would trade all of her new clothes and even wear Ron's old robes.... well maybe not that, but she would give up all of her new possessions to have the Burrow full of laughter and shouts and hugs, and warmth and even the odd noises coming from Fred and George's room again. But all of her brothers save Ron, were gone off on their own. Bill was still in Egypt, Charlie in Romania still, as always with his beloved dragons, Percy was still estranged from the family, though Ginny knew that if he'd give up his darned pride, and if her brothers would too, that they could have him back, and things would be better, at least a bit. Fred and George had taken an apartment above their venue in Diagon Alley (poor Angelina), and Ron was starting to drift apart, despite having a year left at Hogwarts.  
Sighing, Ginny got up off of her bed and began to fold her robes to stack them in her suitcase. Careful to arrange her robes so they would not wrinkle, she placed them in the old tattered and dusty suitcase that Ron had brought down out of the attic for her, and slowly closed the top, and zipped it up. She crossed the room to her bed and sat down on the purple and yellow quilt. Picking idly at a loose thread on one of the seams, she stared out of the small window on the wall next to her bed. The modest hexagonal window provided a view of the Weasley's backyard, and the low stone wall that surrounded the grassy courtyard.  
Movement in the corner of the window caught Ginny's attention, and she looked down from her daydreaming stare, to the worn path from the house to the shed. Ron was crossing the yard with difficulty, with four broomsticks slugged over his shoulder, and lugging a large black wooden box, which he was dragging behind him, tipped on it's end, inching along the dusty path. He stopped, and swore as the edge of the heavy trunk collided sharply with the soft spot on his heel. Ginny could see his mouth moving as he swore and dropped the box with a dull thud. Ginny smiled at the sight, and turned away from the window.  
She laid back and rested her head on the pillow. Staring at the low ceiling, she tried to think of anything that she'd forgotten to pack. Drawing a blank, she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. She could hear dishes clinking faintly downstairs, and her Fred and George bustling around in their room down the hall, emptying their room, to move their things to Diagon Alley. She curled her legs up under her and rolled onto her side, breathing in the comforting smells of her house, something backing in the oven, the fresh scent of flowers from a candle, the slightly old smell of the walls around her, like plaster, and wallpaper, and all of the aromas that had been absorbed over the years.  
  
Ron trudged up the stairs slowly, his heel still aching from earlier that afternoon when he tried to pull that blasted Quidditch crate to the house, so they could take it with them to Grimmauld. He made his way up the narrow steps, and passed the landing where his room was, past Fred and George's, their door, strangely, hanging wide open to show an empty room inside. He kept going 'till he reached Ginny's room, her door was closed. He knocked gently, and stood in the dark hallway, waiting for a response. Nothing. He slowly turned the knob, and the first thing that hit him was the hazy, late afternoon sun rays. The sun was close to setting, it's warm rays hit the back of the Weasley house, and streamed in all of the west facing windows, like the tiny hexagon in Ginny's room. Sunlight fell on Ginny's head, illuminating her auburn red hair, giving it streaks of bright, fiery red. Creeping over to her bed, he bent down, close to her face, and took a deep breath. "GINNY!!! WAKE UP!!!!" he bellowed inches away from her ear. She bolted up, and he tore out of the room, laughing all the way down the hall.  
"RONALD WEASLEY! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!" she shrieked from her room, too drowsy to go after him.  
"You better hurry up, we were gonna leave without you!" her brother yelled from downstairs.  
'I'm surprised you didn't' she thought to herself. With so much activity constantly going on at the Burrow, it wasn't hard to overlook things, or even people. She picked up her heavy suitcase, and braced it against her thigh. Ginny was just grateful that she didn't have to heave her Hogwarts trunk down the stairs, Molly had seen too it that Ginny and Ron were packed for school and ready to go the night before, and then enlisted the twins, Ron and Remus to deliver the trunks to Grimmauld early, so as to facilitate moving the next day. Working her way steadily down the winding flight of stairs , she dragged the baggage behind her, bumping it step by step to the bottom.  
"Good, Ginny, now we can go," Molly Weasley said as she looked up to see her daughter stepping off the bottom step into the kitchen. "Here, doll," Molly employed an old pet name, motioning to Ginny with a flower pot full of sparkling powder. "Go ahead, Daddy's already there, and Ron will come after you, remember now, speak clearly!"  
Ginny took a pinch threw it into the flames, and stepped into the hearth. "12 Grimmauld Place!" she shouted with her eyes scrunched closed. Spinning wildly, she stopped abruptly, and upon opening her eyes, she could see Tonks and her father smiling from the kitchen in front of her.  
"Hurry up now, love, Ron'll be directly behind you then." Her dad said as he pulled her luggage out of the green flames. She stepped out, and the flames flashed yellow again.  
"Wotcher, Ginny!" Tonks said with a wink as she brushed the soot off of Ginny's shoulder. The flames behind them flashed green again with a roar, and Ron slowed to a halt from spinning in the expansive grate.  
Watching Ron travel by Floo was always a laugh, he was so tall that even in large fireplaces, when he arrived, all you could see was Ron's chest down. He hunched over and crawled out of the hearth, straightening up. "Where's everyone else?" He asked as he coughed out a bit of ash. His shaggy hair was twisted in a whirlwind from spinning in the flames and dashed with soot, turning it grey rather than the regular carroty color. He had soot on his face, and the sole of his shoe was smoldering since he was still standing rather close to the fire, which had since flashed back to regular again.  
"They've gone to get Harry, only Remus and Kingsley, everyone else is at a meeting for the Order." Arthur answered, shooting water lazily out of his wand at Ron's foot. Ron shook his head violently to rid his hair of soot.  
"Dad! I thought you said I could go with Dumbledore to get him!" Ron pouted, looking about four years old.  
"Change of plans, I'm going in for work late today, and I am to take you and Ginny to Fred and George's to help them settle in, after you unpack your things here, says your mother." He nodded significantly at their bags and then turned to the fire to help Mrs. Weasley, who had just appeared in the fire with a box of food.  
"Didn't want it to spoil while we won't be home," she explained to nobody in particular, indicating the box of food in her arms. Arthur stepped forward quickly and took the box from her, setting it on the kitchen counter. He turned to the refrigerator, to put it all away, but Molly spoke up, "Oh, no Arthur honey, there's no room here, I'm sending that along with Ron to the twins."  
Ron and Ginny turned and started up the steps together, into the long hallway of the first level. They trudged down the dark hallway, and started up the second flight of stairs to their respective bedrooms.  
  
Slowly making their way through London from the Ministry, Remus and Kingsley Shacklebolt walked to a stairwell on the corner of the street, leading to the Muggle Underground. "I hate this thing," Kingsley muttered as he dropped a token into the slot and walked through the turnstile. Remus followed behind and glanced around the large area, packed with Muggles. 'I love it,' Remus thought to himself, 'All these strange Muggles and the ingenious things they come up with!' The sat down on a bench, waiting for their train after trying to figure out which one they wanted using a large, and confusing map on the wall.  
If someone were to take notice of the two men sitting quietly on the beat up bucket seats all lined up in a row, they wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary about the men. They were dressed impeccably, suits and one carried a rolled up paper, perhaps a newspaper. The tall black man was bald he looked to be about forty, he had a goatee and a stern expression, and carried an umbrella. The other man was younger, shorter, but sturdily built, with flecks of gray in his hair, and light wrinkles around his blue eyes. He had thin glasses on, and every now and then he'd consult his watch, and then look around. Remus and Kingsley had done an excellent job blending in, just as they were supposed to.  
Their train came, and they boarded it, and sat down. Forty minutes later, they arrived at the last stop on the Underground, and got off. They climbed the steps to the street, and came out in a run down bus station. The woman behind the glass at the counter looked up and nodded in greeting. They nodded back, and walked to the glass door. Stepping out onto a trashy street, they started down the sidewalk towards a wood at the end of the block. They reached the dark and gloomy forest, and Remus checked his watch. "We're running behind, it's already past five!" he commented.  
"Just Apparate, we'll get there." Kingsley said, as he disappeared without a sound. Remus followed suit, with a slight 'pop' as he disappeared, only to reappear in Surrey, thirty kilometers from where he began. Shacklebolt was leaning against a tree waiting. "I hope you're not the one who has to help Harry with his Apparating, he won't learn a damn thing!" Kingsley ribbed as the two started walking. They had appeared in a narrow alleyway on Magnolia Street. Another street over, Harry was pacing the hallway right outside his old cupboard like a caged tiger. 'Where is Professor Dumbledore?!' Harry thought desperately. He glanced at his wristwatch, and it showed that it was 5: 37 already. Dudley came waddling into the room, and leaned on a door sill, "Waiting for your friends...?" He asked with a sneer, "Maybe you should pack a lunch, because from what I gather, you'll be waiting a long time....," He paused to let the remark settle, "Because you haven't any friends!"  
Harry glanced up at Dudley, faintly aware that he had just said something, and judging by the smirk on his face, he was waiting for a rise out of Harry. "Go Away Dudley, before I hex you." Harry mumbled, using the automatic line that got rid of Dudley every time. Just then there was a sharp knock at the door, causing Dudley to jump slightly, and waddle quickly down the hall past Harry into the kitchen. Harry looked into the peephole to see who it was, and was relieved to see it was Kingsley and Remus. 'But where's Professor Dumbledore, then?' he thought with a slight panic. Unbolting the locks, he swung the door open and ushered the two wizards inside. Remus set to shrinking all of Harry's luggage for easier travel, and Kingsley tapped Harry on the head with his wand, sending a funny tickling sensation over his face.  
"I've put a charm on you so you don't really look like yourself, safer to travel with now." Kingsley explained. Remus pocketed Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage, and Harry called out to the Dursleys.  
"I'm leaving now, maybe I'll see you, maybe I won't!" he smiled at the thought of never seeing them again, and stepped over the threshold onto the path. The three of them set off down the street towards the bus stop, as Remus explained the plans to Harry, and why Professor Dumbledore hadn't come personally as promised. They turned onto Magnolia Street, and Kingsley said good-bye and started towards Mrs. Figg's sidewalk.  
"From here on, it's just you and I, first stop, Diagon Alley: The Leaky Cauldron for a place to stay, and then to Gringotts, and we're getting there the Muggle way." He finished. A comfortable silence was left between them, and they sat patiently at the bus stop. Harry broke the silence with a question, "Why not take the Knight Bus?"  
"The less magic in the area, the better, you know, lay low." Remus answered. The bus they were waiting for took about ten minutes, and the ride was about twenty five minutes long, there were only two stops before they reached their destination, and only one other person was on the bus, an old man, who looked like he'd fallen asleep. The sun wasn't visible anymore, and the dusk sky was a light purplish blue color, with streaks of bright pink, and occasional patches of orange. Harry and Remus got off the bus at a stop in a busy downtown area of a small city on the edge of Surrey County. Harry had never been there before, but Remus seemed to know the way, so he followed along. They stood on a corner and Remus hailed a taxi as he took out a small billfold from his breast pocket inside his jacket. Remus counted out an exact amount, and clenched it in his hand as he stuffed the rest back into his pocket. He held open the door and slid in after Harry.  
"King's Cross, London," He said with a thick Cockney accent. The driver glanced in the mirror, and pulled out into traffic. They left the downtown area behind, and got onto an exit ramp. Speeding down the highway, they made it to Kings Cross in a little under a half an hour. Remus paid the Taxi driver, and they hopped out onto the busy sidewalk outside the main entrance to the train station. They crossed the street at a red-light and wound their way down busy streets until they reached the famed Leaky Cauldron. Harry opened the door and stepped inside. 


	3. Chapter 3 A Care Package

Across London, at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Ron and Ginny descended the stairs slowly, creeping in the shadows, careful not to make a noise. Two flights below, they could hear Tonks and their father and mother talking to someone, they couldn't quite make out what was being said, or who was saying what, but it sounded vaguely like Remus. "Odd," thought Ron aloud, "I never heard him come in."  
"That's because he didn't you dope! He's probably using the fire, moron!" Ginny whispered roughly as she sighed delicately. Ron looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, and frowned.  
"It's frightening when you do that Gin," he said quietly.  
"Do what, Ron?" she asked through gritted teeth.  
"Know what I'm talking about automatically."  
"Ron, don't be so ridiculous, you're too arrogant to realize that you're such a simpleton that anyone could figure what's on your mind! Honestly!" She clicked her tongue and proceeded down the steps, no longer bothering to be quiet and stealth. Ron followed her down with an incredulous look on his face, scowling at the back of his little sister's head with an unpleasant wrinkle in his nose.  
"You don't have to be so cheeky, it's not like I did anything to you, you know!" he retorted when they reached the bottom step. Ginny just pretended not to hear and marched down the hallway. Realizing she was headed towards the kitchen, Ron called out, "Ginny, don't interrupt their chat! Just wait up here, we can play Gobstones if you like." Too late, Ginny was pulling the door open and starting down the wooden staircase to the basement kitchen.  
  
Tonks looked up first, standing up abruptly, accidentally kicking Arthur in the shin as she straightened up. Arthur scooted back and winced in pain, and Molly and Remus, whose head was in the flames, turned to look at Ginny who was stopped on the bottom stair. She glanced at them all, and then back at the fire, startled to see that Remus' head was gone. "What was Professor Lupin talking to you guys about," she asked curiously.  
Molly stood up slowly, rocking slightly, and dusted her apron off. Putting the kettle back on to boil in the fire, she muttered, "Never you mind, it doesn't concern you, just Harry and Remus! Now, dear, get your brother, your father is ready to leave, don't make him wait!" She bustled over to the counter to add last minute things to the 'care package' of sorts that she was sending along for the twins. "Arthur, you go ahead, take Ginny, and I'll send this box with Ron when he comes down."  
"No, love, I'll just take it in this case here," he said, excitedly holding up the Muggle bag. Mrs. Weasley looked at it with a wary eye, but then just tutted and turned back to the counter.  
The door from the first level hallway opened up, and Ron entered the room and started down the steps to the ground. The box was sitting on the table in front of the fireplace, and Mr. Weasley and Ginny were standing at the foot of the stairs hanging their robes up on the coat hook, donning Muggle clothes underneath. It appeared that someone had helped Arthur pick out proper Muggle clothes, because he looked too Muggle to be anything other than a Muggle. He was dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, complete with a briefcase and all. Ginny was dressed like any other teen-ager in Muggle London.  
Mr. Weasley opened his briefcase to reveal an obviously magically enlarged interior, not unlike the way that the old Ford Anglia had been enlarged. He placed a quick feather-light charm on the box, and sealed it shut with a cursory tap of his wand. He laid his briefcase on the table, and slid the box into it sideways. Stretching the case, he closed it and for a fleeting moment, the leather of the case remained stretched bizarrely around the large square box. Then a small popping noise emitted from the case, and it shrunk back to it's standard size. Mr. Weasley picked it up, nodded to his wife, and started across the room to climb the stairs, followed by his daughter.  
"I'll see you later, darlings!" Mrs. Weasley called to her husband and her daughter's ascending backs, "Send my love to Fred and George, and be careful on that Muggle Underground! Ron," she turned to her son, "leave your robes here," not noticing that he was already dressed in plain Muggle clothes, "now come here, I'm going to transfigure you a bit, and then you must hurry to catch your father and sister at the bus stop!"  
Ron trudged across the room, not quite sure what his mother meant by 'transfigured'. "Mum, what do you mean? Are you going to turn me into a bird or something?"  
"No darling, don't be silly! Dumbledore thought it best that when we all leave the house, especially if we're going in groups of more than two, that we disguise our selves, so that we don't appear related in anyway. We can't be attracting too much attention in Muggle London, and we can never be to careful! Especially since our clan all has trademarks, and we're prime targets!" she rambled a bit, and then recovered her prudence, "Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned that! Oh, well Ron, you must be alerted to the fact, I'm sure you'll take care. Now come closer, and close your eyes!" She pointed her wand at him and muttered something quietly. Ron felt a warm breeze rush past him and he could feel a tingle spread all over his body as his appearance changed. Molly giggled and handed him a pair of sunglasses. "I've always wanted another!" she said nonsensically. (Or so it seemed to Ron, who neglected to glance at the result of the 'disguise as he rushed up the steps.)  
He ran down the entry hall and wrenched open the door. There was a muted twinkling sound as the house popped into ordinary view, and then out of sight again as Ron clattered down the rough path. His feet felt lighter, and his ankles were stressed. He glanced down to see what it was that was causing his awkward movement, and nearly screamed. His feet were small and delicate, and crammed into lovely little pink high heeled sandals (or so his mother had appraised). His legs were trapped in sheer panty hose, and he was wearing a mini skirt. Still running as he looked down in disbelief, his heel got caught in a crevice between two slabs of concrete sidewalk, and in slow motion, he fell forward, very ungracefully.  
A block ahead, Ginny and Arthur had arrived at the bus stop and were taking a seat on the worn bucket seat row of chairs under the small sheltered stop. The glanced back to watch for Ron, and to their surprise, they saw him, dressed like a rather trashy young woman. The watched him fall, splayed out on the pavement, and Arthur jumped up, his hand flying to his coat pocket, where his wand was. Ginny too jumped up in a rush, but she put her hand on her fathers arm, and whispered through the corner of her mouth, "I think it was just a trip!" Sure enough, Ron, slowly got up and brushed himself off. He glanced around as if to see if anyone had seen him, and started down the street at a stroll. Mr. Weasley looked towards the opposite end of the small shelter, where an older man who had been reading a newspaper, was watching him with a look on his face clearly displaying the fact he thought Arthur was disturbed.  
"It was a bumble-bee." Arthur said rather lamely as he made a show of sitting back down slowly. Ginny rolled her eyes, and sat down again. Ron made his way to the shelter a moment later, and sat down in the middle seat, equal distance from the old man, and his father and sister. Ginny glanced at him and stifled a snicker. Hearing it, he glared at her, and then crossed his arms and stared down the street, watching for the bus.  
Mr. Weasley tapped his watch rhythmically with a pattern. Ginny guessed he was sending a confirmation message to someone, regarding Ron. I would venture to say that Ginny was correct to guess this, and that Ginevra Victoria Weasley was indeed a very intelligent witch, who was going to go far in life.  
At a few minutes past 6:35 (the buses correct scheduled time of arrival) the bus could be heard roaring up the slight hill down the street, and it slowly idled to a halt in front of the stop. The old man climbed on first, followed by Ron and then Ginny and Arthur. Ron kept pretending he didn't know the man with his daughter, and took a seat by the door. Ginny and Arthur continued to the back of the bus, and sat by the exit door.  
The ride to downtown London was brief, only two stops along the way. Ginny glanced again at her brother, who currently appeared to be a rather trashy young woman, dressed in an 'up to there' mini skirt, and a tight fitting mesh top that could clearly be seen through to display a solid, bright pink bra. His hair was cut to around his shoulders, and it's color forcibly reminded Ginny of Cho Chang's hair, straight, silky black. At one of the stops, a mischievous looking boy got on the bus, his hair dyed bright blue, and a large ring through his eyebrow. He glanced at Ron and gave a low whistle. Ron looked at him with a disgusted sneer on his face, got up, and moved closer to the back of the bus.  
The bus stopped at the corner of the street that the Leaky Cauldron sat on, and Arthur got off, shepherding Ginny to the sidewalk across the street. The bus started rolling again, and then stopped down the block a few corners down. Arthur turned around, relieved when he saw his son get off the bus. Ron started down the street towards the Record store where his father had just disappeared by. He was the only person on the street that saw the man with his daughter vanish, and he was the only one who could see where they went. The Leaky Cauldron sat between two stores, looking rather squeezed in, and as shabby as always. Ron reached the door way and pulled the handle to enter. A bell jingled over the door, and he walked in to find his Arthur and Ginny sitting at a table near the fireplace. Mr. Weasley got up as soon as he saw Ron, and lead him to the back door. In the Alley behind the pub, he pointed his wand at his son, and said, "Finite Incantatem!" Ron shivered slightly as a cold draft of wind rustled his hair and blew his clothes. "I thought it best not to let Fred and George see you like that, they'd laugh themselves to death." Mr. Weasley said kindly as he tapped the bricks with his wand. Ginny stepped through the archway first, and headed straight to her brothers' store near the Menagerie. Ron, followed by his father, walked behind Ginny towards Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.  
  
Meanwhile, further on down the Alley at Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Harry Potter and Remus Lupin were being ushered inside to a small conference room. Author's Note: I'm sorry it's taking so long for me to keep up with the story, I've been out of town recently, and I have several assignments that I'm working on. Please REVIEW what I've got up so far so I know what you think! Thank you so much! Disclaimer: I don't own hardly any of these characters, places, names, you all know who does, proper thanks to them for their marvelous ideas! 


	4. Chapter 4 Legal Matters and Other Affair...

The short, ill tempered goblin led Harry and Remus to a narrow stone hallway whose revolving bookcase entrance was hidden discreetly behind a tall statue of a dragon. They followed the slopping path between tight stone walls, and then took a right, left left, left, right, the left fork, curved right, took the middle fork, and that's about where Harry lost track of their trek. Five minutes later, the arrived outside of a grand mahogany door with a large brass knocker. A small council of bank trustees and a few purser's secretaries and notary scribes were seated at the long oak table in the center of the room. At the far end of the table, behind the bank president roared a large fire in an ornate marble hearth. Large high- backed leather chairs with rounded brass studs provided seating, and there were two located at the head of the table. Harry took his seat at the end, and Remus walked around behind him to sit on his right side.  
The President welcomed cleared his throat at the far end of the table, immediately putting an end to the subdued chatter all around the table. The wizards around the table all faced him, and paid rapt attention to his speech. "Hello Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin," the heads at the table all turned to Harry and they nodded their greetings, a few eyes lingered for a moment on Harry's fringe, hoping to see the scar, "My name is Jeremiah Petty, I am the Secretary of the Treasury for the Minister of Magic, and President of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. As you are well aware, I'm sure, when a wizard with an inheritance turns 17, he is entitled to claim up to 60% of the funds, and is fully entitled when he marries, produces offspring, or turns 26, whichever of these may come first. We are here today to discuss your account, and how it shall be handled from here, seeing as up to your coming of age, Professor Albus Dumbledore managed it. Interest has been earned, and I believe rent or sales of properties belonging to you through the Potter Family, as well as newly willed property and monies from the Black line have been added to your net worth, and I believe our top accountants figured the new total yesterday for our meeting today. You must have a guardian of the account present with you to co-sign the releases, I'm assuming that is what he is doing here," Mr. Petty continued, nodding politely at Remus, "Yes, Yes, well there are quiet a pile of forms to be signed, before we actually divulge your balance, so lets get on with it, we can't be here all day long, goodness, no!" As he spoke, several secretaries nearly knocked their chairs over, seemingly trying to be the first one to Mr. Petty's bidding.  
A tall thin young man with a small frown on his face hopped up quickly and presented Harry with a fresh quill and ink. Several forms were rushed to Harry, stacked one on the other, waiting to be signed. "Yes, I believe that first one is just a signature to say that you are who you say you are, and that you are indeed of age. Bank policy, I'm afraid, not that anyone is doubting you, Mr. Potter," the bank president narrated from the head of the table, "yes, yes, good, jolly good!" he exclaimed as Harry finished up signing the thick stack of parchments. "So now, I should think you'd like to hear just how much money you've come into young Mr. Potter! Now let's have it O'Brian." He nodded succinctly to an aid on his left, who promptly opened up his ledger and fixed a pair of glasses from sliding down his nose. He cleared his throat, flipped a few pages, and from the far end of the table, Harry thought he could see the man's eyebrows rise slowly as his eyes grew large.  
"Well Mr. Potter, I see here that after a second evaluation, a sort of inventory, if you will, you'll find that you are very easily set for a half dozen lifetimes over," he chuckled, "The net worth of your two estate homes is close to 21 million pounds Muggle currency, that's not including the land that your grandparents owned in Derbyshire, after property taxes, the loan on that is quite disappointing comparing to it's beauty, but it's a handsome sum nonetheless, coming to a total of 6oo,ooo Muggle pounds, and the separate property in Ireland, a county called Offaly near the town of Tullamore that was sold to a land developer caught you a fair sum, 6 million.  
"On to the Black estates, you were willed one property in northern Scotland, and a fair bit of land in the Channel Islands on Jersey Island, outside of Saint Aubin, I believe there is a small beach house there located on the secluded property. The estate's worth has plummeted I'm sorry to say, due to a lack of up-keep, and a general disregard, but it could still catch as much as 5 million, so the appraiser said. The island property is as good as gold, you'll clear quite a figure for it because of its location alone, close to 4 million, and that's enormous compared to its size. Now, don't think I've overlooked them; you have four more houses spread across England. Two in London, one of which is a Muggle address. It's a loft overlooking the Thames; I believe their docks can be glimpsed. Any way, it's being rented to a man, who pays 7,ooo pounds a month on it for the last 15 years, so that's a nice amount there."  
Mr. O'Brian went on, leaving Harry quite bewildered. He didn't realize he had so much. "Then there is the lot in Diagon Alley, yes, just above us now, and down the street a block. That belonged to your parents I believe, that is to say, they're responsible for its purchase. It's a merit of 4oo,ooo pounds, if you like we can walk you over after our meeting and you can review it yourself. You also have a cottage in Hogsmeade, just off the main stretch. That's worth a tidy sum, those properties are in high demand!" he nodded to himself and went on with the list. "An extension of that property across town shows that you have land directly on the edge of Hogwarts school property. Ha! It was right under your nose every time you walked into Hogsmeade, and you never knew it until now! Fancy that. No structures built on your land though, so not quite as fetching as you could hope, but a good total even so. That's approximately 6oo,ooo Muggle pounds, which is good considering the structure is only 2,530 sq. ft. and the land, put together is only a little over two acres!" Mr. O'Brian seemed clearly impressed, "you also own a townhouse in Wales, a charming residence in Cardiff, also being rented out for a profit of 4,ooo per month for over 26 years! My goodness!  
"Now, if we total that up, let see," he poked his wand at the page, swirling the tip around, "Yes, Oh my indeed, that's 4o,116,ooo million muggle pounds right there!" He paused a moment to let it sink in. Continuing he converted it to Galleons for Harry, "That comes to 63 million Galleons, 74 thousand Sickles, and 3oo thousand Knuts. Quite a fortune you've got there! Congratulations Mr. Potter! And now, we move on to frozen accounts, deposit accounts, savings, and certain bequests. Mr. Walden?" He looked to a very severe looking man on his right, a man who convincingly reminded Harry of Mr. Crouch dressed for the World Cup in his fourth year.  
"Thank you Mr. O'Brian, and congratulations indeed to you Mr. Potter. Your family has been one of our largest clients throughout the years Mr. Potter, I'm sure you couldn't even begin to imagine how wealthy your lineage truly was, although your real-estate must give you an idea. You're ancestors helped to build the very structure we're sitting in, and the old location for St. Mungo's as well. Very generous, certainly! Your parents had three accounts, one of there own earnings, another very secure vault, and the largest which contains family money, I daresay a bit of blood money.... Nothing to be ashamed of, almost all wizarding families have it, there were many feuds and vendettas in the old days, long ago, so no worries!" he stopped to take a sip of water.  
Harry thought to himself, 'Yeah, unless you count the grudge that Salazar Slytherin has against all wizard-kind!'  
Mr. Walden continued after wiping his mustache rather daintily with a handkerchief. "The last account also holds your real-estate money, and any deposits from recent wills and the like. I believe that the night your parents were killed and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named vanished, several donations were made in your name to this account, gratitude from the large wizarding community. The largest of the three contains close to 1 billion in Galleons, Sickles and Knuts, the smaller one being a total of 42 thousand in Galleons, 23 hundred Sickles, and 16 Knuts. The vault was frozen upon your parent's death, but I believe it's value monetarily isn't very great. I believe it was used as very concealed means of making with- drawls while they were on the run, or in hiding, although there are also various belongings that were stored there for safe keeping by Professor Dumbledore. There are only 21 Galleons left of that, and your mother's and father's wedding rings as well as you're birth documentation, and a family tree, among other things. The Professor has signed the release papers, entrusting the accounts in their entirety to you. Here are the keys to the vault, and your family's account, I trust you still have the one to your parent's safe. Now, furthering our discussion on accounts..."  
  
Over an hour later, Harry and Remus emerged from behind the large panel door, Harry with a look of extreme surprise on his face. To further his astonishment, he noticed that they were no longer looking at the restricting, rough hewn stone walls and packed dirt floor, but at they had arrived upon exiting the conference room in a small square room, furnished much like you and I may envision a rather nice hotel hallway to be. Harry, who had never really been to a hotel, unless you're counting the Leaky Cauldron, and I'm certainly not, so he was quite shocked, especially because he didn't appear to have come out where he had gone in. The walls were papered in an ecru colored paper, with skinny gold pinstripes, and below the chair rail, there was a solid gold paper with ecru colored fleur de lis. The carpet was short dark green pattern with plumes and irises contrasting in an even darker green color, giving the illusion that they had been embossed somehow. Directly in front of them were two golden doors, reminding Harry slightly of elevator doors. The room was lit by sconces that hung on the wall, and there were two plush benches on the left and right walls. A chime sounded, and the doors slid open revealing an elevator compartment. Remus directed Harry inside, and the compartment closed. Harry could feel the floor vibrate as the cables lifted the box up towards the entrance to Gringotts, back to the street in front of the grand building, and back to the real world.  
"Not many people realize how well-off you are Harry; those accounts are very misleading to anyone outside of the proverbial 'circle of trust'. Albus made sure that it seemed to the world as if your properties were sold off, and there were several stories run about money being turned over to the Ministry. Anyone who was to look into the books would see a modest amount, but nothing eye-popping like the reality is. All of those men in that room, aside from Mr. Petty and Mr. Walden, have had their memories modified. Mr. Walden is a member of the Order, he quite naturally, deals with finance and the treasury. Mr. Petty, of course, as the bank president is entitled to full knowledge of all accounts opened with Gringotts. None of them realize that your parents have a Muggle account, near the loft in London, but that's for another day. We'd better hurry to the Ministry if we want to be on time for your test."  
Harry nodded mutely, still quite in shock. He couldn't help but feel that he didn't want that money, he didn't deserve the gifts that Mr. Walden had mentioned, and he certainly wanted nothing to do with blood money. He ran his hand through his unruly hair, and took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened onto a long wood paneled hallway. At the far end, they could see the hustle and bustle of the main lobby of Gringotts.  
"What is involved with the test, Remus?" Harry asked, his nerves about the license returning.  
"It's fairly easy, I think they have a written part, and then the practical part, it's almost like an exam up at Hogwarts. You've read your pamphlet on Apparating right? Because if you haven't, there is no point in us going," he glanced to see Harry nod. He couldn't help thinking how tall Harry was getting; he would have to direct his eyes up to look Harry in the eyes if he were facing him. He was reminded of James right away. "Right then, you know the drill, you think about where you want to end up, visualize yourself there, and poof, there you are! Be careful if all you have in your mind is a name of a place, you have to just concentrate on the name in that case, because you may end up somewhere else if you try to imagine the appearance of somewhere you've never been. Just keep your mind on your destination, and you wont' splinch yourself. You shouldn't Apparate when you're feeling weak or sick either, and especially not when you're pissed, or your emotions are clouded. That could cause a splinch."  
Harry gulped. He was definitely going to have difficulty concentrating for the test. Remus took it as anxiety about splinching and he started off on a foray about splinching. "It's not that it hurts extremely, I'm positive you've felt worse," he added with a uneasy chuckle. "It's just a feeling of lightheadedness, and sometimes you feel dizzy. The main concern about it is Muggles. Normally they don't notice if someone's disappeared in a small crowd, but if the person's left behind body parts, it becomes very clear. Sometimes it can be a bit tricky to unstuck someone who has splinched, but most of the time it's just a wave of the wand, and a hefty fine."  
They left Gringotts, and turned down a wide alley to the left, leaving the main street of Diagon Alley to their backs. The alley they were traveling down looked residential, there were small stoops every few feet, with windows and shutters and different doors. They stopped at a brick one with a vivid red glass paneled door which reminded Harry of the telephone box entrance to the Ministry. There were curtains drawn behind the glass, but a small plaque next to the porch light read, "Ministry of Transportation, Elfreth's Alley Branch". Remus opened the door, and they walked into a small waiting area. At the far corner was a countertop desk was a frazzled looking witch surrounded by stacks of paperwork and several panels of plastic, all of which were glowing various colors, some more urgently than others. Along the walls there were disconnected chairs, side by side, some were occupied by witches and wizards who were absorbed in filling out a sheet on a clipboard available up at the counter. The witch glanced up as the door closed, and then picked up what looked like a phone. "Mr. Potter is here." She said clearly into it, causing a few heads to snap up from filling out forms. From behind a door near the desk on the wall, Harry could hear the same message being spoken in a louder volume. It was muffled slightly by the walls.  
A wizard came out, handed Remus a clipboard and pointed to a chair on the wall, and then, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, he herded him through the door and down a hallway. He stopped at a small room to the right where there were several desks with chairs sitting empty and alone in the windowless room. Harry sat down and a parchment with numbered questions appeared in front of him. A quill was perched on a fresh ink bottle. "Mr. Potter, please write your name and the date on the test, answer all questions to the best of your ability, and do not skip any. You have thirty-two minutes, I'll be back to collect your paper then." The wizard bustled out the door, presumably of to another exam room with another person.  
Precisely thirty two minutes later, the wizard came hastening back in, snatching the test in one hand, and grabbing Harry's wrist in his other. Harry was yanked out of the chair, shaking the desk and spilling the ink. He wrenched himself free from the anxious wizard's grasp and followed after the shorter man's back down the hall to a room with a sign indicating it was the 'Practical Testing Apparation Point'.  
  
Half an hour later, Harry received his Apparation license and was on his way down the long corridor to the waiting room of the establishment. He scanned the waiting room for Remus, who had gone to run a few errands, and not seeing him, he sank into one of the chairs along the wall. The stressed out witch behind the desk looked up at him after a few minutes and remembered a message for him. "'Scuse me, Mr. Potter!" she hissed quietly, "Oi!" Harry looked up, "That man 'oo was wit choo, 'e's gone shopping, an 'e says for me to say 'meet choo back at the Leaky Cauldron'."  
"Thanks ma'am." Harry muttered as he rose from his seat and ambled to the door. He pulled the handle and jogged down the steps and up Elfreth's Alley towards the noisy and lively street ahead that was Diagon Alley. 


End file.
